


Unexpected

by lait_tea1



Series: Days of Training [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M!Kris, Seventh Platoon, Seventh Platoon Shenanigans, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lait_tea1/pseuds/lait_tea1
Summary: The Seventh Platoon get into more trouble. Includes complementary bandits and several visits to the infirmary because nobody ever taught them how to avoid being stabbed with swords or axes, and nobody ever has a vulnerary on hand.
Relationships: Roderick (Fire Emblem) & Luke (Fire Emblem)
Series: Days of Training [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760962
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be centered around Luke and Roderick and working together in a team, but everybody else in the Seventh Platoon simultaneously decided otherwise and now this fanfic is four chapters and about twice as long as I expected it to be. This fanfic goes all over the place but I've given up on trying to give this any semblance of order. Anyway, I love FE12 and the Seventh Platoon; since there can be never enough of the Seventh Platoon and their shenanigans, I decided to make some myself.
> 
> My apologies if anyone's out of character, especially Jagen or Cain – I haven't actually played Shadow Dragon myself yet. Also, I hope my fanfic does the Seventh Platoon justice because I love them. Also, a warning for violence; it's not particularly graphic but it's Fire Emblem, so what did you expect? Hope you guys like it, and any comments would be appreciated!

The sun blazed mercilessly upon the Seventh Platoon as they trekked down the worn down path snaking out across the relatively flat plain. Kris, Katarina and Ryan trailed behind the three cavaliers, having no mounts of their own.

“We’ve been travelling for a while. Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Kris squinted up at the green-clad cavalier, lifting a hand in front of his face to shield himself from the sun. “Sir Jagen did say the battlefield was farther off than usual… I’m pretty sure we’re in the right place.”

As if on cue, a sudden cry echoed down towards them.

“So here is where we will duel!” The two turned just in time to see Luke gallop away. “I’ll find a suitable place for the legendary Luke to make his stand!”

“And off he goes – the reckless… ugh.” Cecil shook her head. “You’d think he’d have learned to work in a team by now.” Ignoring the distant figure of Luke disappearing into a thick patch of trees, she looked around the battlefield: several trees sparsely scattered about a mostly flat, grassy terrain, a couple of crumbling stone walls and in the distance, a couple of forts.

“Er… where is Sir Jagen, anyway?” Ryan mumbled. The short, green-haired archer had wandered a little farther off, bow in hand. “I don’t see anyone here…”

“Hm?” Roderick looked around as well. Indeed, as the archer had pointed out, there was nobody around to greet them – not even Sir Jagen, who usually was there to explain what to do before heading off to take his position. “You’re right… in fact, there doesn’t seem to be anyone here.”

“Could this be… practice for ambushes?” Katarina offered, cautiously scanning the area. “If we move closer to the forts, they might approach us…”

“…Kris,” Roderick asked, turning towards him. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“Er…” Kris scratched the back of his head. “Well, I mean – I think we are?”

“What do you mean you think we are?!”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry!” Kris raised his hands sheepishly as he backed away from Cecil, flushing – though that might’ve just been because of the hot sun. “I mean, I thought it’s here; he said Battlefield Three, right?”

Cecil gave their blue-haired commander an exasperated glare. “How are we supposed to know? He was the one who told you – you’re the commander here, right?”

“Er… yeah, then, I’m pretty sure he said Battlefield Three…”

“In that case,” Roderick sighed, “We’re in the wrong place. This is Battlefield Five. Battlefield Three is on the opposite side of the castle.”

“Um… oops?”

“You’re explaining to Sir Jagen why we’re late.” Cecil rolled her eyes and snapped the reins of her horse, already urging her horse into a canter back down the way they came. “You should’ve just told us where we’re going in the beginning!”

“I’m sorry! I thought I had the directions down this time…” Kris stared down at his shoes guiltily. “I’m sorry, everyone.”

“Don’t worry, Kris.” Katarina offered him a small smile. “Everyone makes mistakes. I’m sure Sir Jagen will understand.”

Ryan shuddered. “Or m-maybe not – I hope he doesn’t kill us…”

Roderick sighed. “Sir Jagen will not kill us.” _He’s definitely going to lecture us, though… to our credit, it’s a surprise we've managed to not get yelled at for an entire week. Our luck had to have run out at some point._

“He might not, but I will if everyone lags behind!” Cecil called, circling her horse back around to glare at the boy. Ryan squeaked and hurried to catch up with her.

“Er, what about Luke?”

Katarina’s question led to about a three second silent game of ‘not it’, where everyone paused and glanced expectantly at each other for several long moments, until Roderick finally – albeit grudgingly – spoke up.

“I’ll go find him.” He sighed. “Just tell Sir Jagen why I’m late if I don’t show up.”

“Thank you, Roderick! I owe you one.” Kris called over his shoulder as he turned around. “We’ll see you there!”

Roderick spurred his horse out in the direction he had seen Luke gallop off to. A quick survey of the area revealed –

_…where could he have disappeared off to?_

Roderick slowly turned his horse in a circle. There was no sign of Luke amongst the smattering of trees across the field, nor near the crumbling stone walls scarred from clumsy strikes from lances or swords. Even the forest he had disappeared into was devoid of people when Roderick approached.

…that left the single, large fort standing a little further in the distance, then. Roderick urged his horse towards the large, abandoned stone structure in a trot.

They drew to a stop next to it. To nobody’s surprise, Luke’s horse stood patiently outside in the shade, grazing on a particularly long piece of grass and not even batting an eye at Roderick’s approach. Roderick dismounted next to the fort’s entrance.

His horse nickered, tossing her head and blinking at him with large, dark eyes. He placed his hand against her nose. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

With that settled, he approached the door – it had already been left haphazardly creaking open. Roderick made a mental note to remind Luke to actually close the door of the fort that was meant to be acting as protection in battle – even if they weren’t going to be training here today – and stepped into the musty darkness of the abandoned fort.

There was a lamp flickering somewhere to his right, just barely illuminating the inside of the fort. And it was a lot noisier than he had expected, for it being an abandoned fort; just what was Luke doing in there?

“Luke?” He called.

The fire in the lamp cast dark shadows against the wall.

_…wait–!_

He was nearly met with an axe to the face. He drew back, stifling his noise of surprise. He felt his back hit the half-open door with a clang of metal against wood, but the thud of the axe hitting the door all-too-close to his head quickly startled him back to reality.

The hand the axe was attached to made another brutal swing at him again. Roderick drew his lance and blocked the weapon with the shaft, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting of the fort.

 _Bandits? How did they get here–?_ That train of thought was cut off when a cry echoed through the enclosed space in the fort.

“You face the Paladin of Dawn, Luke– agh–!”

Roderick caught the sight of the glint of familiar blue armour and green hair flailing amidst several figures moving about in the darkness. _How did he even–?!_

Before his attacker could make another swing at him again, he gritted his teeth and shouldered them aside, catching them off guard with the hard edge of his shoulder plate. He barrelled his way through the enclosed room and thrust his lance at one of the figures surrounding the other squire with a yell of his own.

“Luke!” He called again, whirling his lance around to shove the butt of his lance against another bandit. They went down with a strangled grunt. Roderick shoved his way to his friend’s side, using his advantage of surprise to bowl over a couple of bandits in the process.

“Hey… fancy meeting you here, Roderick –” The green-haired squire groaned and doubled over as he pressed a hand to his stomach, the other clutched tight around his sword. Roderick’s eyes widened at the sight of the blue cloth of Luke’s tunic already darkening around his hand. “Luke–” He cut himself off. “We need to get out of here.”

“But – the bandits,” Luke grunted, lifting his sword just a little higher and defiantly glaring out at the bandits that were already approaching them, “We have to get rid of them – so they don’t get near Prince Marth!”

“We can’t fight them all on our own.” Roderick retorted. “And you’re in no condition to fight. We have to leave–”

Another bandit came flying at him through the darkness. Roderick parried with his lance and spared a glance over his shoulder.

That proved to be a mistake. A sword skidded down the shaft of his lance from one of the bandit lunging at him through the shadows. Roderick only just managed to pull his lance back just in time, nearly elbowing Luke, who was already having a hard enough time beating back several more bandits while nursing the wound in his abdomen. He gritted his teeth: There’s no space to fight here – we’re going to be overwhelmed if we stay.

Ignoring Luke’s protests, he grabbed the other squire’s arm and tugged him away from the bristling wall of weapons he had been facing off against, opting to pull him down the path he had made earlier and towards the door.

“–gnh!”

Something heavy came crashing down against Roderick’s shoulder; thankfully against the armoured shoulder plates of his left arm, but still forceful enough to warrant a sickening crack and a blaze of pain. He staggered, nearly pulling Luke down with him and earning a sharp gasp of pain from the other.

He twisted around, shoving himself in between the axe-wielding bandit and Luke. “Quickly! Go!” He urged, switching his lance to his right hand and jabbing it at the attacker to beat them back. The axe clanged against the pointed tip of his iron lance and Roderick nearly dropped the weapon from the sheer force of the blow.

“Roderick, I’m not leaving you behind!”

“I’m not planning on staying behind either!” Roderick countered, tightening his grip on his weapon and lunging forwards at the bandit before they could lift their axe again. The tip of his lance met its mark – a solid thrust into the vulnerable stomach earned a strangled scream and their foe collapsed to the ground, axe in tow.

Roderick withdrew his lance, panting for breath. The other bandits, probably still stunned from their sudden change in intention, were floundering about in the near-darkness. He turned back to Luke, who had stumbled a few steps onwards. However, with a jab of alarm, Roderick could see the shadowy figures of several bandits approaching Luke – seeing that he was most vulnerable.

“Ah–!” Luke winced as his sword clanged against another sword, nearly sending it skittering out of his one-handed grip. The screech of metal echoed throughout the near-darkness, and with a clumsy twist of his sword, he only just managed to knock the other weapon aside before his opponent could strike him again. “Begone, foul bandits! You dare –”

“Just go!” Roderick grabbed Luke’s arm again, yanking him away from whoever he was facing, and the two of them stumbled out of the fort and out into daylight.

Their horses whinnied at their rapid approach. Roderick shouldered some of Luke’s weight and helped the other clamber clumsily into the saddle – with Luke’s other hand being preoccupied with clamping a hand down against the fabric of his shirt (dark red, Roderick noticed with a shudder, but there wasn’t any time to look at that now) before throwing himself onto his own horse.

A couple of bandits stumbled out in pursuit, yelling angrily and waving weapons of their own. They turned in the direction of their horses, pointing – but faltered, squinting balefully out at the squires as the blinding brightness of the sun struck them.

The two horses lurched forwards into a gallop without any need for persuasion, nearly throwing the two off. They could only clutch on to the reins and whatever handholds there were, shoes scrabbling at their horses’ flanks in a futile attempt to find the stirrups (which were clacking against their feet with each bound of the horse) and pressing themselves low to their horses as they took flight away from the bandit-infested fort.

The two of them only slowed down after they were far away enough to lose sight of the bandits and their shouting. Roderick untangled his hands from the reins and sat up, sliding his feet into the stirrups with a long breath.

The adrenaline rush of the battle finally left him. He sheathed his lance before his own arms gave away; the rise-and-fall motion of his horse might have been soothing at any other point in time; but currently, with every jostle, it caused a throb of pain radiate out from his left arm.

That wasn’t the main issue on his mind, though, and certainly not the most important one.

He turned towards Luke, who had practically slumped over on his own horse – still conscious, but surprisingly silent for once. Roderick grimaced at the extent of the wound; he was no cleric, by any means, but the amount of blood trickling through Luke’s fingers and staining the formerly-blue fabric didn’t look good. And the fact that he wasn’t talking Roderick’s ear off like usual…

“We’re taking you to see a healer.” Roderick’s tone left no space for objection, if Luke even had the energy to do so. When Luke didn’t move, his brow creased in concern. “Luke, are you alright? Can you ride?”

“I’m – fine,” Luke hissed through his teeth, his free hand – the one that wasn’t clamped over his wound – loose around the reins. “The legendary Luke won’t let a tiny sword wound best – ugh…” He pressed his face against his horse’s mane, groaning. “But it would – be better to… get back sooner…”

-x-x-x-

“Bandits in the forts of one of our training grounds?”

“They appear to have made it their temporary hideout, sir.” Roderick reported. “We were surprised –“ He pointedly left out the fact that Luke had been the one to run off first, since Luke really didn’t need more on his back right now, “– by the bandits because we hadn’t expected the fort to be inhabited. We managed to escape with the element of surprise, though… the situation could’ve turned out a lot worse.”

“Bandits managing to even get close to the Altean Castle… that is not good news.” Jagen had been prepared to give the two squires a tongue-lashing, seeing as they never showed up alongside the rest of their platoon (even though the rest of them had been late), but that notion had died when he received the news. “You two are excused for missing today’s session. However…” His eyes fell upon Luke. The green-haired squire cowered slightly underneath Jagen’s piercing eyes.

Jagen sighed. “Do be wary of your surroundings next time. I expect you two to be present and on time for our next training session. Dismissed.”

When Jagen was finally out of earshot, Kris, Katarina and Cecil promptly rushed into the medic’s room, much to the chagrin of the old woman – the only cleric in the infirmary at the moment. Ryan hovered behind them, nervously glancing out the door as if expecting Jagen to rush back in and start lecturing them too.

“Gods, Luke, how did you even get yourself into such a mess?!”

“Ow – hey, Cecil, be gentle, don’t hurt me–!”

“Cecil, could you refrain from hurting him this once…? He did just get stabbed with a sword, after all. But…” Kris exhaled and curled his hands into fists against the fabric of his sleeves. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there; I could’ve never expected such a thing to happen…”

“Don’t worry about it, Kris the Ordinary! The legendary Luke is perfectly fine – a single sword wouldn’t be able to take me down! I’m here now, right?!”

“Only with Roderick’s help…” Katarina mumbled. “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t go search for you.”

“What could’ve even made you think that going into a bandit-infested fort was a good idea?!” Cecil demanded.

“Hey! I didn’t know… I thought it was empty!” Luke tried to raise his hands in defence, but groaned and immediately curled back over himself. “Oww…”

The healer tsked impatiently and waved the others away. “I’m not done yet. Go and wait outside.”

“Er, Luke, are you okay?” Ryan piped up.

Roderick sighed. “He’ll be fine. We should go outside.”

“You’re staying, young man – I heard there was an injured shoulder that needed to be checked as well.” The cleric rapped her healing stave none-the-more gently against his arm, earning a wince from the brunette. “Ow – alright, fine, I understand…”

“Let’s go, everyone.” Katarina rose to her feet. “Let’s just leave them be.” She smiled graciously at the healer. “Thank you so much for helping…”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the healer waved them off, already focusing her heal stave against Luke’s partially closed wound. The others took this as their cue to leave the room, with Ryan carefully closing the door behind them.

“You four.”

They all jumped to attention.

“Sir Jagen!” Kris quickly greeted when nobody else did – all eyes were on him, seeing as he was the commander, after all. “Did you need something from us, sir?”

“Your platoon, alongside the others, will be accompanying the knights of Altea on a patrol to search for and rout out these bandits.” He stated, staring down at them with stony eyes. “Your morning training session is cancelled. We are meeting at the gates at noon and you will receive further instructions there. And make sure not to be late this time.”

“Understood!” They chorused in unison, quickly saluting the veteran knight.

They watched him march down the hallway and disappear around the corner.

Ryan slumped down against a wall, shivering. “Ooh… he’s scary…”

“Ha! Scared of your own commander?” Cecil stood up a little straighter and folded her arms. “Are you really prepared to be an Altean knight?”

“Cecil, stop tormenting Ryan.” Kris stepped in between them. “We have to work as a team, remember?”

“Yeah…” Katarina trailed off as the door swung open. “Oh… hello, Roderick. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It was just a minor injury.” Roderick rolled his shoulder and glanced behind himself. “Luke’s still getting his wound dressed.”

“Oh, by the way… Sir Jagen has a mission for us tomorrow. We have to meet at noon to go hunt the bandits you guys ran into…”

“Very well.” Roderick nodded. “Is that all?”

“He also said we have to meet at the front gates.” Ryan added quietly.

“Yeah, we all heard that.” Cecil shot Kris a look. “At least this time we’re not going to be late because of a certain someone’s sense of direction, this time…”

“I said I was sorry!”

“I’ll make sure our commander doesn’t get lost.” Katarina said resolutely.

“…do you really have that little faith in me?”

“Yes.” They all said simultaneously. Kris scratched the back of his head sheepishly, flushing slightly. “I mean – yeah, I guess you have a point…”

Katarina glanced out the window. “It’s getting dark… dinner should be served soon.”

“I’m going back to my quarters to put down my equipment first.” Roderick stated.

“I’ll do the same.” Cecil was already unbuckling her shoulder plates. “I didn’t even get time to put down anything before you three insisted we come to visit Luke.”

“Er… should anyone wait for Luke?” Ryan enquired nervously, glancing at the half-closed door.

“He’ll know where to go. Just leave him be.”

“See you all in the mess hall, then.” Kris waved at the two cavaliers, who were already walking away. Katarina tugged at Kris’s sleeve. “You do realise our rooms are the same way, right…? You haven’t taken off your armour yet…”

“Oh.”

Ryan spared the closed infirmary door a final glance, then quickly turned and lengthened his strides to keep up with the taller members of his platoon. “P-please wait for me!”

-x-x-x-

Luke scratched idly at the freshly-healed wound through the thin fabric of his night shirt, hair damp from the bath and his towel thrown over a shoulder. He was particularly disappointed when he had come to – after all, the first thing he had seen was the aged, wrinkled face of an old woman poking him with a heal stave, rather than one of the sweet, younger clerics, perhaps a lovely –

The door to his and Roderick’s shared room opened before he even touched it. Before he could contemplate whether he actually had magical prowess, Roderick poked his head through the doorway and glared at him.

_Oh._

“Close the door behind you.” The other squire’s voice was unchanged – it was still as cool and measured as ever – but Luke mentally flinched. _Oh, he’s mad. _  
“Roderick–” He began, but he was interrupted.__

“This is why we have to work in a team, never in isolation.” The other’s voice was quiet, clipped. “It’s what Katarina said – what would have happened if we hadn’t come back for you?”

Luke winced. “Well… I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t have to go off on your own. If you’d waited just a moment longer, you’d have found out alongside us that we were at the wrong place.”

“I–”

“Luke – I know we’re both training to be Altean knights, and we’re both going to face things that will be a lot more difficult to handle than a couple of bandits. If you run off yourself and get injured…” Roderick looked up, expression unreadable. “There might not be anyone there next time. There might not be healers out on the battlefield… you can die out there, Luke. You _could’ve_ died out there, if I hadn’t – if I hadn’t stumbled upon the fort at that moment.”

“I’m…” Luke sighed. Guilt pooled in his stomach and clawed at his throat, and he couldn’t bring himself to retort.

_He’s absolutely right._

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, looking down at the cold, stone tiles instead. He could feel Roderick’s gaze boring into his head. “I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have made you come back for me. I got you injured…”

“That’s not the issue.” Roderick finally let out a long sigh, glancing away and out the window – the sky was dark and their only view being the courtyard of the castle, which was currently empty. “We will get hurt. We may even die. That’s in the nature of our job – our to-be jobs. But… Luke – I don’t want to see you needlessly die from being careless.”

“…I promise.” Luke mumbled, looking up. “I won’t run off next time. I swear. I won’t – I’m not…” He swallowed hard, his throat tightening at the sight of Roderick’s expression – it was carefully neutral, but Luke had known his friend long enough to catch the tell-tale signs of sorrow in his eyes. “I… didn’t mean to cause you – and the others – to worry. I just… I was reckless. I’m sorry.”

“You –” Roderick hesitated, then turned back towards Luke. He pursed his lips, then nodded. “…you mean it.”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Luke nodded anyway. “I promise.” He cracked a smile, trying to rouse some life back into his friend. “After all, how are the bards going to sing of the legends of the Paladin of Dawn Luke and his closest friend, Cold-Eyes –”

“Luke.”

“–if we’re not even going to live through Sir Jagen’s training?!”

Roderick rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing exasperatedly but unable to keep a faint smile from surfacing. “…alright, Luke. It’s good that you understand, but really – how many times have I asked you not to use that nickname?”

“But it’s true – aha, there it is!” Luke pointed an accusing finger at him, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “You’re looking at me like that again…!”

“Just –” Roderick rolled his eyes, finally quenching the smile tugging at his lips. “…I’m going to the baths. See you later.”

Luke watched the door close behind his fellow squire and his longtime friend.

_…I’ll make sure to be vigilant next time. I swear… I won’t make you guys worry about me again._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that was meant to be summarised in a timeskip but somehow came to life anyway, because the Seventh Platoon is just like that.

“Wake up.”

“Kris.”

“Kris, get out of bed.”

Kris yawned and buried back into the warmth of his sheets.

“You’re going to be late for Sir Jagen’s mission.”

The blue-haired fighter practically shrieked at the top of his lungs as he shot out of his bed, only to promptly fall flat on his face (thankfully on the mattress) with his limbs tangled in the sheets.

He turned his head. A irked Katarina stood next to his bed, arms on her hips and her face flushed.

“A-ah… I didn’t mean to –”

“Where? When? What time is it?!”

“It’s nearly time for breakfast to be served.” Ryan offered from where he was making his bed across the room. Kris groaned and flopped back onto his bed again, freeing one hand to rake through his hair. “Ugh… you nearly scared me to death for a moment, Katarina. Wait – how did you get in here?”

Katarina was already backing away. “I – Ryan let me in, but – I’ll go to give you time to prepare, eep–!”

She had disappeared out the door before Kris could blink.

“Asking her to come in was the only way I could get you to wake up…” Ryan mumbled. “I’m sorry, Kris…”

“No, it’s fine.” Kris frowned. “But why did she run off like that…?”

“I don’t know…” Ryan set the folded blankets on his mattress. “But… m-maybe you should… put on a shirt, first; they start serving breakfast in a few minutes and we need to get to the mess hall.”

“…right.” Kris kicked off the rest of his sheets and slid off the side of the bed, leaving the sheets rumpled. “Don’t want Cecil to come after me now for making everyone wait.”

-x-x-x-

“How are you doing, Luke? We didn’t get to speak yesterday after we were shooed out of the room.” Katarina, now noticeably more composed, asked as she cut apart the scrambled eggs on her plate with her fork and knife.

“Oh, I’m good! I was patched up to perfect health yesterday – a shame yesterday’s cleric wasn’t a sweet, young maiden…”

Roderick smacked him across the back of the head with the flat of his palm. “She most likely saved your life, you know.”

“Ow! I mean, yeah, but –” Luke rubbed the back of his head with the hand that was currently not occupied with trying to scoop up a piece of egg with his fork. This resulted in said egg sliding off his plate and onto the floor. “Aw – my breakfast!”

“Er, do you want me to go get you some more…?” Ryan enquired, setting down his tray next to Luke. Cecil rolled her eyes. “No, don’t. He can live without it. If he wants more, he’d get more.”

“You guys are mean…”

“Someone here needs to set you in your place!” Cecil retorted. Luke forked the rest of his egg into his mouth. “Hey, what do you mean by that?!”

Roderick winced at the sight of egg spraying out of his mouth and onto Luke’s tray. “Perhaps you’d mind your manners, for one…”

“Mmf!” Luke swallowed. “Alright, goodness, Roderick! You don’t have to act like my mother or anything!”

Katarina quietly lowered her utensils and glanced around. “…where’s Kris, anyway? I thought he’d woken up…”

“He did.” Ryan replied. “He’s probably in the queue…”

“Ugh, is he really going to make us wait for him again?!”

“Peace, Cecil. We’re not in a rush; we’re setting out with Sir Jagen at noon, after all.” Roderick replied.

Luke squinted at him. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Oh, did we forget to tell you…?” Katarina glanced at Luke. “The morning session’s cancelled. We’re going out at noon to patrol instead and search for the bandits you ran into yesterday. Sir Jagen says they shouldn’t have gone far… Though if you’re not feeling up to it, I’m sure he’ll excuse you –”

“Nonsense!” Luke declared loudly, slamming his fork against the table. Anyone who hadn’t already left their close proximity shuffled away, sending Luke pointed glances. (Yes, they were used to that; despite being one of the ‘best’ platoons, with skill and work ethic not to be looked down upon, they also somehow tended to get into _a lot_ of trouble. Roderick supposed they were lucky that Sir Jagen was impressed enough with their skill as a platoon to… excuse the other messes they made, though they still couldn’t avoid the constant lectures he gave… and the fact their reputation as a platoon just kept on dropping.) Luke ignored the receding groups of people and stood up to look down triumphantly at the others. “I’m in perfect health! After all –”

“Sit down, Luke.”

“– the legendary Luke can’t be stopped by a single, measly wound to the gut!”

“You keep on saying that, but it nearly killed you, Luke…” Katarina mumbled.

Cecil stood up and yanked the green-haired squire back down into his seat, giving him a kick in the shin for good measure. “Are you trying to announce that to everyone in Altea?! You’re embarrassing us! If you have to go and continue being yourself, go and do it somewhere else!”

“Thought I’d find you guys here.” Kris hurried over, carrying his own tray of breakfast. The other people nearby eyed him and mumbled under their breaths as he entered the giant, empty circle surrounding the Seventh Platoon. Kris ignored them and slammed his tray down on the table, causing Ryan to jump and yelp.

“Whoops, sorry Ryan.” Kris pulled out the chair and sat down. He immediately dug into his meal, wolfing it down like a prisoner who hadn’t seen the light of day in an entire year.

The others watched; partially in awe, and partially in disgust. It wasn’t like they didn’t already know of their commander’s ravenous appetite, but watching him eat each time was practically a new experience altogether, whether that be for good or for the worse. Kris messily dragged the back of his arm across his mouth and let out a contented exhale. “Ahh, I was starving. I think I should go back for a second serving…”

Katarina politely – yet wordlessly – handed Kris a napkin.

“Right… now that’s settled…” Roderick trailed off. “Commander, is there anything in particular you want to discuss in terms of the mission Sir Jagen assigned us?”

“Oh?” Kris was already halfway out of his seat. The wide-eyed expression on his face was reminiscent of a deer that had just realised a hunter’s bow was trained on it. “Uh, don’t die?”

Katarina sighed and waved a hand at him. Kris immediately darted off to get his second serving of breakfast. “And we should work as a team, everyone – we’re dealing with actual bandits here, not sparring with Altean knights.”

“That just makes it easier.” Cecil scoffed. “They’re hardly skilled or well trained. We’ll rout them out in no time.”

“They’re actually rather…” Roderick paused. “There are quite a lot of them, even if they may not be trained soldiers; we should be on our guard, no matter who they are. We only managed to escape last time because they were blinded by the darkness.”

Luke had been unusually quiet throughout the whole discussion. Finally, with a rare, serious expression across his face, he spoke up. “I agree with Roderick. We should be careful.”

All eyes swivelled to Luke.

Cecil blinked. “Did he just –”

“Y-yes, that sounds like a good plan…” Ryan smiled back at Luke, surprisingly being the first to swallow down his shock. “That’s – a really good idea, I think.”

“–say something reasonable? For once?” Cecil continued, dumbfounded. She squinted at Luke – then promptly punched him in the shoulder. “Who are you and what have you done to the real Luke?!”

“Ow! What was that for – I am the real Luke!” Luke protested, rubbing his sore shoulder. “Nobody could replace me, the Paladin of Dawn –”

“Right, we understand,” Katarina said with a small smile, “But truly… I’m glad your mindset has changed… even if it’s temporary.”

“Why’re you still looking at me like that? Did I say something weird?”

Cecil nudged Roderick rather roughly, catching the other off-guard and nearly bowling him face first into his tray of half-eaten scrambled eggs. “What did you do to him?!”

“Huh?”

“You know, what he’s doing right now! What even happened yesterday?”

“…I already told you what happened.”

“Maybe nearly dying knocked some sense back into him.” Cecil sat back with a huff. “Well, good for him. We might actually have a chance at getting through Sir Jagen’s training regiment like this.”

“What’s going on? What did Luke do again?” Kris plopped his filled tray back onto the table with a clatter, startling Ryan again.

“Luke said –”

“What’s so strange?!” Luke protested. “Is encouraging everyone to be careful a bad thing?!”

Kris squinted at Luke. “…Cecil, can you punch him again?”

“Gladly.”

“Ow! Kris, not you too?!”

“Luke just came back from the cleric’s. He doesn’t need to go back with a broken arm, especially since he’ll need that for the mission.” Roderick shook his head at the others’ antics. “If you’re done with that, perhaps we could actually discuss something useful? Like, per say… our upcoming mission?”

“What is there to say?” Kris said, through a mouthful of food. Katarina sighed. “Kris, what did I tell you about –”

“Sorry.” Kris took the offered napkin. “Anyway, what I was saying was… you know, do the thing we usually do. Follow instructions, beat the bandits, get back for dinner.”

Roderick raised an eyebrow. “I’d think that following instructions is one of the things that our platoon is very good at _not_ doing – courtesy to what I’d personally prefer.”

“What’s the fun in that, then?” Luke exclaimed. “Rules are meant to be broken!”

“That’s… not quite how it works.”

“Don’t you agree with me, Ryan?” Luke flung an arm around the shorter boy, who seemed to shrink under the combined gazes of everyone else. “Uh, I –”

“Luke, stop pressurising Ryan. Literally and figuratively. And personally, I’d think…” Kris shrugged. “Rules are meant to be followed… most of the time. It’s just that… something just always seems to come up, you know?”

“Like when Sir Jagen explicitly told us to _not_ touch the chests when we were assigned cleaning duty – again – and then Luke said ‘Let’s open the chests’ and then you all watched him do it in the few seconds my back was turned, especially at the very moment Sir Jagen walked in?” Roderick said dryly. “And never mind about that; the very reason we were assigned cleaning duty was –”

“I tried to stop him that time, too…” Ryan said quietly.

“It’s not always my fault, you know!” Luke protested.

“Yes, it is…”

“What about the time Kris went and –”

“Right, enough bickering!” Kris declared. “We’re the Seventh Platoon – we have to work together! We can’t be fighting like this! How else are we going to get through times of conflict?”

Cecil rose from her chair. “I’m going to train.”

“I’ll join you.” Kris said eagerly. “I’ve been needing to hone my sword arm lately…”

“In that case…” Katarina stood up too. “I’ll go where you go, Kris.”

“U-um… do we all have to go?” Ryan stammered.

“Yeah! We go as a platoon!” Luke declared, slamming down his fork (again). “We need to work as a team! That means doing things together and sticking together like… like a flock of birds!”

“I don’t think Kris meant that quite that literally–” Roderick sighed. “You know, never mind. Let’s just all go and maybe Sir Jagen might see us, ah, working hard, and forgive us for whatever mess we’ll get into next.”

-x-x-x-

Their training session mostly consisted of Cecil chasing Luke around with a staff and Kris skewering training dummies. Katarina, as a strategist, didn’t have much to do – and wouldn’t pick up a weapon, much to Kris’s dismay – and spent the time staring – er, studying Kris and giving him pointers. Ryan ran into his brother, Gordin, while they were there, then the two brothers wandered off to the archery range and left them alone. This left Roderick to half-heartedly stab his own training dummy while making sure Cecil didn’t actually beat Luke to death.

Noon came relatively soon. Thankfully, the sun was hidden behind several clouds today, but it was still mildly warm outside. They gathered their equipment, saddled their horses and headed out to meet Jagen by the castle’s front entrance.

“Remember, Kris…? I met you here… I accidentally ran into you on the very first day of our training to become Altean knights.” Katarina murmured, a faint, forlorn smile on her face. “…that – I’m glad I met you, Kris.”

“Oh? Yeah, me too,” Kris replied, only half paying attention to Katarina’s words. His gaze was sweeping across the other platoons of squires gathered here, most likely picking out where Sir Jagen was. “…huh. There are a lot of people here.”

“We’re searching the outskirts of Altea castle, after all. It’s quite a large area to cover.” Roderick replied, looking around as well. His horse nickered and bumped its nose against his ear, to which he idly stroked her nose. “It looks like he’s gathered all the squires here today.”

“Hey!” Luke’s voice came from high above their heads – he was perched upon his horse, unlike Roderick and Cecil. He waved out at someone in the distance, beaming. “That pretty lady waved back at me!”

“Right… and you do realise you don’t have to be on your horse right now, you know?” Cecil muttered. “You’re making everyone look at us… again.”

“Squires!”

They all quickly turned at the sound of Jagen’s voice ringing out over the faint breeze. Next to him was a knight in red – Sir Cain – and a blue-haired man – Sir Frey.

“We’ve gathered all twenty of you here in order to hone your practical skills.” Jagen continued. “There have been bandits spotted near Altea Castle –”

“By none other than us–”

“Luke, be quiet.”

“– and we have decided to cancel your morning training sessions, as you already know, so we can gather you all together to set out on this mission. It is a simple one, but it should allow you to gain valuable experience for the future if you are to become Altean knights.” Jagen gestured with his hand out to the two men standing next to him. “Each one of us will be leading you out on a patrol of the outskirts of Altea Castle. We will be searching for the bandits, and if we do run into them, we will rout them out. However…”

His piercing glare seemed to be aimed over the heads of the other squires and directly at Luke, who was still on his horse. “You must be extremely wary. These are bandits. They will be aiming to hurt or even kill you. However – you twenty are still here because I can see you have the potential to become Altean knights – whether it be through your skill, talent or hard work.” Jagen swept his gaze over the other squires. “I am expecting you to be responsible. Do not take on more bandits than you can handle yourself, and always stay close to your commander. We do not want to lose any potential here.”

“So it’s what he said –” Cain spoke up from where he was astride his horse. “We’re fighting actual bandits. You have to keep your guard up. We’re trusting you to accompany us on this mission so you can gain some real battle experience, so make sure to listen to your commanding officer. But with that said and out of the way…” He circled around the group of squires on his horse. “We’ll be splitting into three groups and covering a third of the perimeter of the castle outskirts so we can cover the entire perimeter. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. In that case…” Cain came to a stop next to Sir Frey. “Sir Frey, if you please.”

“Of course.” Frey nodded and pulled himself astride his horse. “The First Platoon, you will be accompanying me. The Fourth Platoon, you will accompany Sir Jagen. And the Seventh and Eighth Platoon… you are with Sir Cain, as you will be covering the larger sector.”

“C’mon guys, let’s go meet up with them.” Kris waved the rest of his platoon over to where the red-haired knight was waiting. Already, there were about four other squires lined up neatly – seeing as the other two platoons were accompanied by their respective senior knights, Kris came to the conclusion that this had to be the Eighth Platoon.

“Glad the Seventh Platoon could finally show up.” One of the squires hummed from where she was standing next to her horse.

Kris smiled back. “Nice to meet you! I’m Kris–”

“We know well enough.” There was a vicious look in the dark-haired girl’s eyes as she spoke. The firmness of her tone completely shut Kris down, and they all simply stared at her in mild shock.

“Wow, rude…” Luke mumbled. “What did we ever do to you?”

“I’ll have you know the Eighth Platoon isn’t betting on luck to get us through to become Altean knights.” She raised an eyebrow – she didn’t seem to hear Luke, or was making a show of ignoring him. “We’re aiming to get to the top through raw skill and discipline – something that your platoon seems to lack.”

Kris gritted his teeth. Katarina quickly placed a hand on his arm. “…just ignore her. They’re just jealous of our success as a platoon.”

“It’s a real surprise you’re still here.” The girl sniffed. Her horse tossed its mane haughtily and looked down at them, snorting. “I would’ve thought the Seventh Platoon be one of the first to desert, seeing how you’re all pathetic at following instructions – and I bet at everything else, too. I bet the only reason that Sir Jagen hasn’t made you leave is because –”

“That’s enough.” Cecil hissed, already moving forwards with her fists raised. “If you want to see who’s really stronger, I’ll show you right here and now –”

“Cecil.” Roderick moved in front of her, seeing as Katarina was already trying to hold back a seething Kris. “…if you want to show them who’s the better platoon, we need to prove it to them through our actions.”

“Ahem.” Cain cleared his throat as he led his horse back over to the large group. Kris and Cecil reluctantly fell back into line before Cain could overhear their quarrel with the other girl, shooting daggers at the back of the girl’s head. “Commanders Goneril and Kris. Seeing as our group is particularly large, I’ll be needing you two to help lead your respective platoons as well. I won’t be able to keep an eye on all of you, so I’m trusting you to be responsible.”

“Of course, Sir Cain.” Goneril exclaimed, beaming back. The callous smile had been wiped completely off her face – much to their surprise. “Gladly! The Eighth Platoon won’t fail your expectations.”

“…Yes, Sir Cain.” Kris ground out, shooting Goneril another glare. She smiled serenely back in response as she gracefully pulled herself onto her mount.

“Excellent. Follow me, then.”

-x-x-x-

Another reason that their platoons had been chosen to combine together was also because they had so many cavaliers, allowing them to cover ground quickly. Ryan’s arms were wrapped around Roderick (a little tighter than necessary, but Roderick decided against telling the terrified young archer that – he doubted it would make much difference, anyway) as they trotted after Cain.

Katarina sat behind Cecil and Kris was left to partner up with Luke. However, to their surprise, Luke hardly uttered a word as they travelled; though, to be fair, most of them were in a sour mood from Goneril’s provocation and didn’t really have much to say anyway. The other members of the Eight Platoon shot them similar, scathing looks behind Cain’s back as they travelled.

“We’ll be taking a look at Battlefield Five, where the bandits were first spotted. I doubt they’d still be here, but be on your guard.” Cain called over his shoulder.

“Just take a quick look around. Make sure to always be accompanied by at least one person at all times – we’ll move out once we’ve cleared this place.”

Roderick split up from the group alongside the other cavaliers and urged his horse towards the large fort in the centre. Luke followed with Kris in tow, and the four of them slowed outside the open doors.

Luke craned his neck to peer inside. “It looks empty.”

“I doubt they’d still stay after running into us, but we should take a look inside anyway.” Roderick twisted around on his horse. “Ryan, you’re going to need to let go of me first…”

“U-um, alright…” Ryan’s arms loosened slightly but another nervous glance at the ground below immediately had him shaking again. “But – er, how do I get off…?”

Kris quickly dismounted from Luke’s horse and hurried over to help Ryan down. The two cavaliers dismounted as well, and the four of them approached the open doors cautiously.

The sturdy wooden doors (marred with gashes from training weapons – and one, as Roderick remembered all-too-clearly, from the blade of an axe) swung open with a mighty push, clanging against the walls behind. Sunlight washed the musty fort with a mildly gold tint, highlighting the floating clouds of dust that billowed out at their approach.

The fort was smaller than it had seemed in the darkness.

“They must’ve left in a rush.” Kris observed, dragging his fingertips along the dusty wall. Roderick turned to look; the walls were smeared with dust in some places, while other places clearly bore the imprints of either weapons or bodies from people leaning against the wall. There was an iron sword with a broken hilt lying in a corner, and –

“Eugh…” Ryan shivered. “T-there’s blood here…”

“…it must’ve been from yesterday.” Roderick studied the smear of dark red on the floor. There was an evident sign of a footprint from when it was still fresh, but the trail faded out before it even reached the doors. “I don’t think training weapons would injure someone enough to cause something like this.”

“Hello?” Luke called from the narrow stairway leading up to the top. “Anyone there? Any bandits hanging around?”

“I doubt that would work… even if there were bandits here.” Roderick muttered. “This fort’s clear, then. We should leave.”

“Wait…” Luke hurried up the rest of the steps. He returned several seconds later. “Nope, nothing up here either.”

“Can we leave?” Ryan was already inching towards the door.

“We’ll have to alert Sir Cain or someone that this place needs a cleaning, though.” Kris glanced at the smears on the ground, then promptly sneezed. “It’s really dusty here – you’d think that nobody’s been in here for years.”

“Right… let’s leave, then.”

When they stepped back outside, they caught the eye of Cecil and Katarina. The two girls, perched on Cecil’s horse, trotted over to them.

“Anything inside?”

“Nothing. Unless you’re interested in dust and blood, that is.”

Cecil peered inside and grimaced. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Katarina smiled weakly behind her. “…that’s where you were attacked, right? It doesn’t happen to be… your blood, does it?”

Luke shrugged.

“How… reassuring.” Katarina glanced at Ryan. “You’re… looking a little pale…”

“I’m alright.” Ryan swallowed nervously. “Um, let’s just get moving. I’m sure Sir Cain and the others are waiting for us…”

Kris made a face. “Ugh, those jerks. I don’t even get why they already hate us so much. What did we ever do to them?”

“Exist, probably.” Cecil rolled her eyes. “They’re stuck-up jerks; what makes them think they can question why we’re still here?! And they’d think we – the Seventh Platoon – would desert?! The nerve of them – I swear I’m going to beat –”

“Let’s just ignore them and their taunts for now.” Roderick stated. “There’s no use expending energy on them… let’s just focus on our mission for now.”

“S-speaking of which, I think Sir Cain’s calling for us…” Ryan pointed. There, over the gentle slope of the hill, the red-haired knight was beckoning with a hand and yelling something that was lost to the wind.

“Right. Seventh Platoon, move out!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Empty… as expected.” Cain muttered after hearing the Seventh Platoon’s report. He clicked his tongue and snapped the reins of his horse. “Everyone! We’re moving out that way towards Battlefield Four, but we’ll be straying a little farther so we can investigate the nearby village as well.”

The squadron of cavaliers (and their passengers) trotted after the senior knight wordlessly.

“Hey. You. Guy in green.”

Roderick glanced towards the source of the voice and tried not to visibly grimace at seeing the speaker. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Oh, nothing.” Goneril smirked from where she was sitting on her horse. With the majority of the Eight Platoon being cavaliers, she was free of needing to ferry around a passenger, and was clearly flaunting it. “What’s with the green armour, anyway? Are you trying to become the next Panther?”

“I don’t see how you could’ve come to that conclusion.” He replied neutrally, more focused on following the rise-and-fall motion of his horse than listening to the girl. “Besides…” _Everyone knows that topic is touchy with Sir Cain… Why is she bringing it up now?_

“Of course we’re aiming to be as good as the Bull and the Panther!”

_Gods, Luke, not now…_

“Hm?” Goneril twisted around on her horse. “Oh, it’s you.” She scowled as the green-haired cavalier pulled up next to her. Kris, who was sitting behind Luke, glared at her. “Didn’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

Roderick sighed and glanced out at where Sir Cain was leading the group. “…we shouldn’t talk about this. You already know –”

“Know what?” Goneril said overly loudly, grinning deviously at them. “About the great Bull and Panther duo? You know –”

Roderick sighed and gave his horse an extra kick, spurring her onwards just to avoid having to talk to the obnoxiously loud girl.

“You know it’s rude to leave while we’re having such a wonderful, civil conversation!” She called after him.

After a few moments, Luke and Kris drew up to him. “What was that all about?” Kris muttered not-so-subtly, glaring behind his back.

“I don’t know. She just came up and started talking to me.”

“I thought she didn’t like us.” Ryan mumbled.

“Besides, Luke, you have to be careful with what you’re saying. We’re with Sir Cain right now.” Roderick hissed. “You know he’s not comfortable with people talking about Sir Abel.”

“Oh. Right… I forgot.” Luke lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his head bashfully. “Sorry.”

“Squires!”

They all quickly twisted back around to face forwards on their horses.

“We’ll be making a turn here to check on the nearby village, then we’ll head to Battlefield Four.” Cain called, unaware of the conversation that had happened behind his back. “As you might have already heard from the War of Shadows, Prince Marth’s method of fighting also included constantly checking on the inhabitants of the villages, even during battle. This was key to garnering support from the people, and we even gained valuable allies through this. As an Altean knight, you will be expected to always have the people in mind too, no matter their status or position.”

“Sounds familiar…” Kris muttered.

“When we arrive at the village, we will spread out. Enquire the villagers about anything they might know – we could gather valuable information about the bandits we’re hunting – but ask about their wellbeing as well. We are Altean knights, after all – or to-be Altean knights, in your case.” Cain continued. “We’ll report back after each home is checked.”

“Yes, sir!”

-x-x-x-

They dismounted from their horses outside the houses to avoid intimidating the villagers; though that wasn’t particularly necessary. In fact, some of the more curious ones, especially the village children, rapidly approached the ‘Altean knights’, open-mouthed in awe.

“Luke, we’re meant to be asking for information, not… whatever this is.”

Luke was preening underneath the attention of the children and appeared to not hear Roderick at all. Roderick sighed. “Luke…”

“Right, right. Got it!” Luke rose to his feet. “Remember the Paladin of Dawn, Luke – when he comes by again as a full fledged knight, remember his name –”

Cecil grabbed Luke by the ear. “That’s it. We’re going to do something actually useful.”

“Ow – ow, Cecil, it hurts!”

Roderick followed the two through the open doorway of a house, where Kris and Katarina were already engaged in discussion with an elderly man with serious expressions on their faces.

“…you say you saw suspicious figures?”

“Aye.” The old man stroked his thinning white beard and nodded. “I dismissed it to my failing sight, but now that you mentioned it… I did see what seemed like a big shadow out in the distance when I was coming back from fishing this morning. I thought I was imagining things, but it might’ve been a group of people, now that I think about it.”

“That’s useful information; thank you, sir.” Katarina bowed politely.

“No problem, young’uns! Glad to be of service.” The man squinted at Luke, Cecil and Roderick as they approached. “Say, aren’t you all a little young to be knights?”

“Oh, we’re just squires right now – but we’ll be fully fledged knights soon!” Luke declared. “We’re just doing our duty of making sure Altea’s safe!”

“Ah, that’s wonderful.” The old man nodded and smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “I still remember back when I was your age; I had similar dreams, too, but my poor, ailing back couldn’t take the training… I could hardly lift a woodcutting axe, aye. It’s naught but a dream now, but seeing you young’uns running around brings back memories.”

“That’s – great, sir, truly.” Katarina nodded back. “Thank you for your help.”

“Ah, actually, one thing – do you know where you saw these, er, mysterious people?” Kris quickly added.

“Well, I tend to fish by that little stream out to the… east of here, I think? I was coming down the main road… and I looked out over the meadow and I see this big, shifting shadow. There was also a forest out there in the distance, if I recall…”

“The east, huh?” Kris frowned. “Alright, I see… thank you.”

They exited the house.

“So the bandits were out travelling towards the east?”

“They might not have been bandits. It could’ve been something else… but it is a lead.” Katarina admitted. “I wonder what they could’ve been doing… running away, maybe?”

“In that case, they should’ve made a lot more ground than that.” Roderick furrowed his brow. “The man did say that he spotted them just this morning, after all…”

“Either way, it’s a lead.” Cecil took the reins of her horse. “We should report that to Sir Cain.”

“…where’s Ryan?”

“Uh…” Kris looked around for the familiar bowl-cut amongst the smattering of villagers. “…he _was_ with you, right, Roderick?”

“We dismounted together.”

“He’ll make his way back.” Cecil decided, already walking away. “Come on – we need to report this back to Sir Cain!”

-x-x-x-

After passing on the information (and finding Ryan being prodded around – more playfully than in any actual contempt – by the village children), Sir Cain almost immediately set off east.

“I’m hungry…” Kris muttered at some point on their ride, looking up at the sky. “How many hours has it been? We must’ve missed lunch by now…”

“Hey, there’s the forest the old man must’ve been talking about.” Katarina pointed. Surely enough, out in the distance, a rather thick expanse of trees stood beneath the blue sky. The clouds had parted slightly, letting more sunlight trickle through; it illuminated a portion of the field that stood in between the forest and the main road they were travelling on.

Cain let out a shrill whistle. “Everyone! We’re splitting from the main road. The bandits were said to have been spotted here, so we’ll take a look.”

Roderick guided his horse off the road and through the thick grass. The clop of his horse’s hooves became a series of muffled thuds as they picked their way through the grassy meadow.

Cain paused near the forest. Everyone else drew to a stop, gathering around the red-haired knight.

“…I don’t like this.” Cain muttered. “It’s unusually quiet. Where are all the birds?”

“Birds?” Goneril snorted almost disdainfully, already urging her horse out in a trot towards the forest. “Nonsense. Just because the birds aren’t singing, it doesn’t mean that the bandits –”

An arrow thunked into the ground directly next to her horse’s hooves.

With a loud whinny, it tossed its mane and immediately galloped away from the main group, clearly spooked – and taking its rider with it.

Cain’s eyes widened. “It’s an ambush–! Cavaliers–” He scanned the forest where the arrow came from. Another arrow whistled through the air and landed harmlessly to his left. “–split up; Roderick, back her up, Luke and Cecil – circle around the forest the other way, get rid of the archers –”

Several more arrows rained down upon the group. Everybody scattered.

Ryan practically threw himself off Roderick’s horse. Roderick didn’t wait to check if the archer was alright – the ground would soften his fall anyway – and, with a sharp kick to his horse’s flanks, immediately galloped after the commander of the Eighth Platoon.

Roderick pulled out his lance and squinted out at the forest with narrowed eyes. The bandits had done a very good job at concealing themselves – the archers were invisible amidst the thick tangle of trees – but at least their splitting up meant that there were fewer arrows to deal with. He pressed himself closer to his horse’s neck, his left hand tight around the reins, as he searched for where Goneril had gone. He wouldn’t let his distaste of her get in the way of his duty, after all.

“Goneril!” He called, slowing only slightly to get a better look around.

His eyes widened at the sight of something whizzing through the air. He lifted his arm and twisted around – the arrow clanged against his armour and hit the ground.

_They’ve made me a target… But where are the arrows coming from, anyway?_

Roderick spurred his horse onwards. Several arrows thunked to the ground behind and around him, and one even clinked off the armour on his horse’s hind leg.

He spotted the tell-tale shape of a rider and a horse galloping up ahead.

“Goneril!” He shouted again. “We need to get rid of the archers –”

The dark-haired girl twisted her head around and yelled something that was lost to the wind.

“What–?“

There was a thunk and suddenly his horse reared with a scream.

The only thing Roderick was aware of was of his shoes sliding backwards out of the stirrups before he hit the ground – hard. He groaned and lifted his head just in time to see his horse bolt with an arrow in her neck.

“Gh… that’s not good.”

He dragged himself to his feet, leaning against his lance for support. His entire body was probably going to bruise tomorrow; but right now…

_Well, I’ll just make it on foot now and find my horse later._ He glanced around, catching Goneril out of the corner of his eye again. “Goneril!” He called, moving to approach her –

“Get out of my way!”

Startled, he could only throw himself to the side as the girl practically trampled over where he had just been standing.

Without turning around, she and her horse had already galloped off towards the forest, leaving him alone and face-first in the dirt. He pulled himself to his feet yet once again, wincing at the dull, throbbing ache that spread through his right arm – the one he’d landed on the first time.

_…there’ll be time to berate her later. I shouldn’t stand still for long. I should make my way back to the main group–_

As if answering his thought, an arrow hit the ground near him. He spun around towards the forest –

_In the trees…!_

Duty was duty, after all, whether he had a horse or not. Roderick picked up his lance, ducked his head and made a break for the forest.

There was only one archer on him, he realised, as arrow after arrow struck the ground or whistled past his head. He veered off to the right, then turned towards the left as he approached, hearing rather than seeing the arrows being fired off quicker out of sheer desperation.

In an usually brash move, he threw his lance.

There was a scream and a thud. Roderick ducked behind the trees, now that he was close enough to take cover, and found himself face-first to his lance embedded in the corpse of an archer.

“…that’s one.” He retrieved his lance, pulling his eyes away from the growing red puddle around the archer. He looked around, tipping his head back to scan the trees.

_That seems to be it on this side, but are there any more…?_

A rustle in the underground was the only thing that alerted him to the axe whistling down through the air. Roderick ducked as the blade cut into the tree bark directly next to his head.

“You…!”

Roderick made eye contact with the bandit.

The bandit was sporting dark hair cropped close to his head and several scars cutting across his face like the ridges of a cliff. However, what drew his attention was the gnarly scar in his abdomen through the torn fabric of the bandit’s brown tunic; it was only partially healed and an angry red, and the raised skin around it almost looked burned – most likely from messy healing from white magic.

“You dare try attack us after you nearly lost your lives against us?!”

_Oh,_ Roderick realised as he just barely managed to parry the next strike, _He must be one of the bandits I stabbed yesterday._

His arms buckled under the weight of the giant axe pressing against his lance and he took a step back, only for his back to hit the tree behind him. The bandit snarled, more animal than human, and took another swing at him again.

“Stupid – Alteans,” each word came with a deadly swing of the axe, which Roderick sidestepped and dodged, “Taking – everything – I ever owned!”

Roderick lifted his lance and made a quick jab at the bandit in an attempt to get past the wild, brutal swings. Instead, as if the bandit was expecting it, the axe came crashing down against the shaft in a single swift move and buried the tip of the lance into the earth. “Pesky boy,” the bandit hissed, lifting his axe again to bring down upon Roderick’s head, “Bringing the Altean knights to us after running away with your tail between your legs, are you? And–”

Roderick tore his lance out of the ground and only just managed to deflect the brunt of the blow away from his face with the butt of the lance. The blade of the axe grazed his arm but missed, leaving the bandit struggling to heave his axe out of the ground.

There wasn’t much time for careful consideration or hesitation in battle. Without another word, Roderick plunged his lance into the bandit’s –

“–ngh!”

Something promptly bowled him over and tackled him into the earth, knocking the air from his lungs. Roderick gasped sharply at the sudden weight against his entire body, crushing him to the ground and bending his left arm back uncomfortably – pinning it beneath his own body. His lance clattered out of his grip.

“Nice of you to show up.” The first bandit drawled from somewhere in front of him.

The second bandit was nothing more than a dark silhouette above Roderick and was currently shoving him down into the earth with an iron shield. Roderick tried to free his other arm, twisting around in the dirt in an attempt to dislodge the heavily armoured bandit, but the bandit simply pressed down harder with his shield. The hard edges dug in painfully between his ribs.

“They’re just squires!” The second one scoffed, shifting his weight and leaning down even further. Roderick grunted as he felt something crunch underneath the hard, unyielding edge of the shield. “Why’re you struggling so much with this one?! The real threat here is that red knight.”

The second one’s breath was hot on Roderick’s face and wretchedly close, only reminding him of what a precarious situation he was in. Roderick twisted his face into a snarl and tried to twist around so he could reach for his lance, but to no avail.

“Just kill the boy.” The first one hissed. “I’ve had enough of him trying to murder me already.”

“Hmph.” Vicious eyes glinted above the edge of the shield. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

The shield was shifted to the side, temporarily relieving his throbbing ribs from the pressure, and the tip of the lance gleamed above Roderick’s head.

“Any last words?”

Roderick stared up at him.

“…gh!”

The armoured bandit, caught unaware by Roderick’s foot whipping around – albeit a bit clumsily, but that was the setback with wearing armour – to hook around his neck, lost his balance and faceplanted into the dirt just as Roderick rolled to the side. The first bandit whipped around as Roderick reached for his lance and pulled himself to his feet, probably covered in enough dirt and grass to grow his own garden, but still very much alive.

“You–!”

Roderick didn’t wait around to hear the end of it. While the second bandit was still incapacitated and struggling to get up, he spun around and ran, stumbling and tripping over tree roots and undergrowth with his lance clamped tight in his right hand.

“Coward!” Someone shrieked from behind. Roderick continued to ignore him and glanced around – there was a light filtering through the trees from somewhere to his right.

He shoved his way through the shrubbery. The tree branches jabbed him in the face but the adrenaline practically numbed everything else as he floundered his way out of the forest and –

The next thing he knew, half of his vision was obscured by thick grass, black and white spots occupied the other half of his vision, and there was a splitting pain in his head. His lance had skittered out of his grip and had disappeared somewhere out of his sight.

_Why am I on the floor…?_

Something tightened around his throat and yanked him from the cool floor. His head lolled to the side limply and Roderick tried – he really did – to focus, but his head was fuzzy and there were two of everything in front of him and it was getting hard to breathe –

“You’re not getting away this time. We don’t need more of those knights on our tail…”

Roderick blinked blearily as the sun hit his face and promptly blinded him for a second, causing the throbbing pain in his head to increase tenfold. _What – what happened… – I can’t breathe…_

“Get awaaaay!”

There was a distant thud.

He was on the floor again in a tangle of limbs – his head hurt less when lying down, but then there was a sudden bout of vertigo and, oh, Naga, everything was spinning again…

-x-x-x-

Luke would’ve impaled the guy on his sword if he hadn’t noticed his approach and jumped out of the way.

_Maybe I shouldn’t have announced myself first…_

At least the bandit had let go of Roderick – oh, right, Roderick! That was why he was here! Luke spared a quick glance towards his friend and felt his throat tighten; the brunette hadn’t moved from the ground, not even to pick up his lance.

“You pathetic–”

Right, and there was also the bandit to deal with. Luke forced his trademark grin onto his face and narrowed his eyes. “Gotta love the Luke!” He bellowed, more to bolster his own courage than anything, and charged again.

The bandit had leaned down to pick up the axe on the floor.

Luke’s sword met the bandit’s chest just as he turned around to face Luke. There wasn’t even a scream; just the sound of iron through flesh and the thud and whisper of a body being dragged along the ground. With a grimace, Luke slowed down and pulled the bloodied sword back out of the body. The bandit did not move from where he had hit the floor.

“…whew.” Luke breathed out a sigh of relief; then immediately remembered why he was here.

“Roderick!”

He dismounted and rushed to his friend’s side. He grabbed the other’s face and turned it towards himself. “Roderick, you’re – you’re alive, right?! You’re not dead, are you?!”

There was a faint whistle of breath against Luke’s hand. Luke would’ve sobbed in relief if not for the fact the legendary Luke did not cry, so instead he hefted his friend up to his feet and started dragging him towards his own horse, seeing as Roderick’s horse was nowhere in sight (in fact, it was the fact his horse had turned up without a rider that alerted Luke to the fact something was wrong). “Roderick, you scared me there for a second! When your horse showed up without a rider, I swear–”

“Nrgh….” Roderick’s eyelids fluttered. Luke quickly turned his head to meet Roderick’s unfocused gaze. “Hey, Cold-Eyes! You – you doing alright?”

Roderick blinked sluggishly at him. “…Luke?”

“How did you even end up here?! Don’t you remember what you told me – we have to work in a team and not in isolation, remember?”

“…it’s not like I had a choice…”

Despite the vagueness of Roderick’s words, Luke already had a pretty clear idea of what had happened. He curled his fingers into a fist. “That girl–!”

Roderick mumbled something incomprehensible. Luke sighed, feeling the anger quickly dissipate, especially after noticing the thin trickle of blood down the side of the other squire’s face.

“We need to get you out of here – quickly. The others will handle the bandits.” He reassured, though there didn’t seem to be much point in that since Roderick seemed to have just dozed off again. “Alright, I’m just going to – put you up here…”

Luke lifted him up onto the saddle and silently apologised as he swung himself into the saddle too, sitting Roderick in front of himself in an attempt to keep him from falling off.

“Hey, I’m going to need to you actually help me out here – Roderick?” Luke tried to prod the other with his hand. “Oi, don’t go falling asleep on me!”

“I’m not… sleeping…”

Luke pushed a section of the reins into Roderick’s slack hands. Thankfully, he actually took hold of them – albeit not really aware of what seemed to be going on, but it’d do. Luke clicked his tongue and gave his horse a kick, tightening his hold on Roderick and the reins in his hands as they lurched away from the battlefield.

It turned out riding a horse with two people, especially when you couldn’t see in front of you and the other wasn’t making much of an attempt at staying on, was a rather strenuous task. At least they weren’t getting pelted by arrows, now that the archers had been taken care of; that would be a whole new level of difficulty altogether.

“…it’ll be fine – we’ll be fine…” Luke chanted to himself under his breath like a mantra as his horse loped along. He really hoped they were going the right way…


	4. Chapter 4

The others had dealt with the rest of the bandits relatively easily. Ryan had actually picked off most of the archers in the trees in a sudden bout of confidence, and Cecil had cut down the remaining ones. Who knew what happened to Goneril – the commander of the Eighth Platoon and her horse had stumbled out of the forest, cut in several places and bleeding.

When they’d gathered together again, Cain looked like he was ready to immediately flip out and start yelling over the fact that Goneril had run off herself; at least, if not for the fact there were more pressing matters to attend to. Roderick had gained consciousness and was mostly aware of what was going on, though he seemed to be a lot more sluggish than usual – a side-effect of the concussion, Luke presumed. He was in a particularly foul mood as well – this would’ve never happened if they’d all just worked together like Sir Cain said they should.

Roderick was in no condition to ride himself, though, so Luke volunteered to continue carrying him. At least the other squire was actually aware of his surroundings now and could cling on to the horse rather than slide straight off like last time, which made it a whole lot easier to travel. Cecil had removed the arrow in the neck of Roderick’s horse and now guided it along with a long piece of rope, like a miniature convoy except the only ‘carriage’ attached was the horse.

They trotted back to the entrance of the Altean castle at dusk; a lot later than they’d expected to. Dinner was to be served soon and they hadn’t even had lunch yet (as they were constantly reminded by Kris’s growling stomach).

They came to a halt by the stables just outside the castle itself and dismounted to allow for the stable hands to lead them away. Cain dismounted as well, though a stormy expression continued to rest upon his features.

He dismissed Luke and Roderick to head to the infirmary. “Head injuries can be a lot more serious than they seem. You should get that checked out and tended to.”

So this was how Luke ended up practically being shoved out of the infirmary (after the same old woman from before prodded him a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t injured) to give the clerics time to do their work. He had almost felt grateful at seeing the old crone approach him to help set Roderick down onto a bed (hey, even for Sir Luke the Great – armour was heavy, and practically carrying another set of it was hard!) until she’d snapped at him and kicked him out, muttering something about ‘being in the way’.

“Luuuke!” Someone yelled down the corridor, then he was immediately smothered by the rest of the Seventh Platoon.

“I’m so sorry–” Kris began, but he was interrupted by Cecil. “Luke, what did you do to him this time?!”

Somebody tsked. They quickly parted to allow the other squires to enter the infirmary; Kris and Cecil immediately craned their necks to catch a glimpse of their friend, while Katarina and Ryan didn’t even bother – they would see him later anyway.

“I didn’t do anything!” Luke protested, once the other squires had disappeared into the room. “But I swear it has something to do with that girl–”

“You mean Goneril?” Katarina mumbled thoughtfully.

“Yeah, her!” Luke scowled. “Why did Sir Cain send Roderick after her anyway? She ran off herself; whatever happened to her next would be her fault.”

“Even so…” Kris shook his head. “While I personally feel the same, as Altean squires, we also have a duty to protect each other; no matter how much we like them or not. I suppose Roderick felt the same, since ignoring Sir Cain’s orders would’ve been, well, not good.”

“H-how did Roderick get so injured?” Ryan stuttered. “I, well, he’s not bad at fighting, right? Even without a teammate…”

“There were a lot of bandits. Even we nearly got overwhelmed with Sir Cain on our side.” Kris said gravely. “You guys weren’t kidding when you said there were a lot of bandits.”

The door opened again.

“You again?” The old cleric muttered, glaring out at the rest of the Seventh Platoon. Ryan shrank under her gaze.

“Er,” Katarina quickly interjected before the others could speak up, “Is Roderick alright?”

“If you’re talking about the boy in green…” The old woman sighed. “Yes, he’s fine. You can come inside if you want as long as you don’t get in the way.”

“Yes, thank you!”

The injured squires from the other platoons were scattered out across the room. Already, some had apparently been tended to already and were moving towards the door. Nobody even glanced at them as they picked their way past several clerics to where a familiar set of green armour was set next to one of the white mattresses.

“Oh? You came…”

“Of course we did, Cold-Eyes.” Luke grinned to hide his relief. “Glad to see you’re up and awake.”

“Roderick!” Kris cried, quickly moving towards the brunette. One of the clerics shot him a glare as Kris nearly kicked over a bucket on the floor, and Kris quickly raised his hands in apology. However, it didn’t stop him from moving over to the bed anyways. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there–”

“Don’t be.” Roderick interrupted. “It’s not your fault. I simply… tried to take on more bandits than I was capable of and was overwhelmed. I have to thank you, Luke, for turning up just in time…”

“Hey, what else are teammates meant to do?” Luke shrugged, then narrowed his eyes. “But Roderick – you’re not usually one to be so reckless and take on more than you usually can. That’s my job! You said it yourself – we have to work in teams, right? So why were you out on your own when I saw you?”

Luke already knew the answer; and Roderick knew this. The others looked at Luke in confusion, then back to Roderick, who stared back at Luke for a long moment. Luke held his gaze and raised an eyebrow.

Finally, Roderick sighed. “Yes, I was sent after Goneril. I was unlucky and the archers managed to shoot my horse. I was thrown off and – Goneril galloped off herself… so I proceeded by myself on foot. I was holding my ground against a single bandit, then I was surprised by another one. I suppose they hit me in the head with something while I was attempting to escape… then I think Luke showed up, but I’m not sure… my memory isn’t the clearest after that.”

“I knew it was her fault!” Luke exclaimed.

“It’s not quite… well, perhaps if I’d been a bit more careful, my horse wouldn’t have –”

“She was supposed to work together with you and she just ran off and left you in the dust.” Luke fumed. “If I’d been there–”

“Peace, Luke. As I said, I am fine now. I am grateful to you for coming to my aid.” Roderick placed a hand against Luke’s forearm. Katarina took the chance to quickly change the subject. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Roderick! Are you able to leave yet?”

“Well…” Roderick glanced out at the other clerics across the room. “They’ve helped with the concussion. They said they’ll come back to me after they’ve finished with the other squires, so I’m stuck here for now.”

“Should we bring dinner back, then? I know I’m starving.” Kris said eagerly. “Or we’ll save you a space–”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Roderick chuckled, “Seeing how we end up with an empty table to ourselves almost every time.” He winced and placed a hand on his chest as his ribs throbbed in protest. “…ow.”

“Those bandits really gave you a beating, huh?” Cecil frowned.

“Mm.” Roderick glanced off to the side. “You should head off to the mess hall before the queue gets too long. I’ll catch up once I’m done.”

Before Kris could voice whatever he was about to say, the infirmary doors suddenly swung open with a bang. They all turned to see a very familiar, dark-haired girl storming down towards them.

“Uh… is she coming towards us?” Ryan’s question ended in a squeak as Goneril came to a stop in front of them.

“Sorry for leaving you alone.” She ground out harshly. Then she crossed her arms and stared down expectantly (yet haughtily) at them.

“…apology accepted?” Roderick said uncertainly. Goneril looked like she was on the verge of rolling her eyes, but decided against it. (They later discovered it was because of Cain peering in through the open doors.)

“Er, Dame Goneril… your injuries?” One of the clerics followed the fuming squire for about two steps before they were fixed with a glare and immediately retreated. Goneril stormed out through the infirmary doors and disappeared down the hallway.

Cecil glared at the open doors, which were still swinging from the force from which they were opened. “That little–!”

Then Cain promptly walked in through the doors and Cecil immediately turned her glare elsewhere.

“Is he coming for us too…?” Ryan stammered.

“The Seventh Platoon.” Cain greeted them with a nod. “I’m glad to see you all are faring well.”

“Thank you, sir – and the same to you, too.” Kris said quickly. Cain’s gaze flickered out towards the doors. “I must apologise to Sir Roderick on her behalf, as your senior knight on the mission. I did not have time to speak to you then, but I saw what had happened – it was unacceptable of her to simply ignore you after your horse fled… especially nearly running you over with her horse.”

“You – saw?”

Cain sighed and nodded. “Yes, I did. I see I should’ve paid attention to things like this a little more closely. I would never have expected your rivalry to have intervened in dire situations like this…”

Kris blinked. “Our… rivalry.”

“You weren’t being particularly subtle about it.” Cain said with a wry smile. That smile disappeared quickly, though. “I’ve spoken to Commander Goneril about this, too. The fact it’s led to this situation, where other squires’ lives are put into danger, is simply unacceptable. I’ve also already told the others, but I’ll apologise again for leading you all into an ambush – I hadn’t expected that the bandits would be expecting our arrival. We should’ve been more prepared…”

“Well… er, Sir Cain, if I may,” Roderick interjected, “It’s unnecessary you should apologise – for either of those things… none of us really had control over it, and Goneril – you shouldn’t be apologising on her behalf, sir–”

“Perhaps, but I still believe that you all deserve an explanation.” Cain straightened up and sent them a faint smile. “After all, you are one of the best platoons we’ve had so far. It would be a shame to lose some of my favourite students.”

Kris blinked. “Ah, well, sir–”

“After all, seeing Jagen’s reactions whenever your platoon gets into mischief – hah, it reminds me of my days back as a squire.”

Cain was already walking away before Kris could formulate an actual response. The door clicked shut behind the red-clad knight.

“…favourite students?” Cecil mumbled.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Katarina nudged Luke, “we still have to keep working hard and staying out of trouble to stay at the top… Luke? Cecil?”

Kris couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He turned back to the others, eyes sparkling. “Guys –”

“Don’t let it get to your head!” Katarina scolded again, giving Kris a shove. Kris rubbed the back of his head, still smiling. “I know, I know – gotta keep at it, right? You don’t have to tell me twice to keep on training – but you know what? It feels like we’re already halfway there to becoming Altean knights…!”

“He said that? He didn’t say that, did he…?” Ryan mumbled.

Roderick sighed, but smiled faintly. “No, he didn’t. But let them have their excitement for now; it’s… a good celebration to end off today’s mission, even if I did get myself caught unawares by a couple of bandits.”

“As the Seventh Platoon’s commander… I swear it that we’ll all become Altean knights. I swear it!”

“But only if we work as a team,” Luke added with a grin. “Never in isolation, right Roderick?”

“Gods,” Cecil chuckled breathlessly, “Is it strange I almost believe you when you say that for once?”

“We need to celebrate with a feast – that is, having a fairly ordinary dinner at the mess hall!” Kris declared.

“…what are we celebrating again?” Ryan mumbled.

Katarina shrugged, but was smiling too. “Another day as Altean squires, perhaps – another day which we’ve worked together. Either way… Kris is right. We should go and have dinner… everyone else’s already left the infirmary by now.”

“Ahem.”

The old cleric from before pointedly cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. “…your friend needs healing before he can go. You rowdy bunch should leave first.”

“Yes, madam – er, of course!”

Luke sent Roderick a nod and a smile. “We’ll be waiting for you in the mess hall!”

Roderick returned the nod. “I’ll see everyone later, then… and Luke.”

“Huh?”

“Thanks for coming back for me.”

“Hey,” Luke said, turning around from where he was standing before the open doors of the infirmary. “What else is a teammate – and a friend – supposed to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it to the end of this mundane/strange fanfic I've written, congratulations! Thanks for making it all the way here. You've also probably realised I like writing in Roderick's POV a lot. He's just one of my favourite characters, okay? Also, I like writing about characters being kicked around and whacked by weapons of all sorts – it's just fun to write about since they'll get patched up by white magic and other Fire Emblem stuff anyway. (Also, vulneraries? What are those?)
> 
> Any comments would be appreciated, again; it really does make my day even if it's just a couple of words. It's nice knowing someone out there spent some time to read something I've made, but either way, I'm glad you clicked on this fanfic and made it all the way through! (I really want to write more about the Seventh Platoon and their shenanigans, though... they're just fun to write about.) Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day, wherever you are!


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